Push Me Around
by xabie
Summary: Inspired by a beautiful piece of fanart, xabie caves and starts writing again. Fuuko confronts Mi-chan but finds herself with the short end of the stick.


Author's notes: You might be surprised to see me writing again. Believe me, I'm surprised too. However I've decided to return to writing small amounts (one shots) again. I guess I just couldn't stay away. I was inspired by Touga's very lovely tofu fanart, entitled push. It can be found here: wwwdotdeviantartdotcomslashdeviationslash12004053

Sorry about the string of letters but is stripping URLs. Anyway. Here we go! Enjoy!

Push Me Around

Mikagami pulled on his boots and laced them up. He loved his boots. They were gorgeous. Made of snug leather, it was not too clunky to be getting in the way of combat, yet not too feminine that he needed to punch people more often than usual.

It was his favourite pair of boots. Unlike stupid Recca's ninja shoes which were completely ugly or Purple Monkey's sneakers which was just so common, his could actually be considered cool.

Speaking of Fuuko though, he heard her screech his name down the hallway not too long ago. It was a monstrous screech like her screeches usually were and it caused the walls of his room to vibrate a little.

'Smart walls,' he thought, 'they know to be scared of one of the worlds most devastating natural disasters.'

He wondered what she wanted with him now and narrowed his eyes. She had better not want to play with his ensui like she did the last time. When she had returned it to him it was completely empty! And he had _specifically_ told her to refill it upon return. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure why he lent it to her in the first place. He suspected that it had something to do with knocking his head against the wall hard and wiping out half of his brain cells. Why? Because not only did he lend her his ensui, he also wanted to touch her hair. For some reason they looked nice and soft and silky when most of the time he just wanted it to get out of his face.

'Well ladeedah, Mikagami, you're a smart one. You figure it out.'

Hm.

He decided not to think about it.

It was a good decision because his door exploded at that moment.

Leaping up into the air, Mikagami did a backward somersault and quickly ducked away from the shards of debris flying dangerously around.

Only, he realised as he sneaked a peek from behind his arms that were brought up to protect his face from the risk of being disfigured, that the door _wasn't_ exploding. It had just burst open with an enormous amount of force. The debris that was flying around was actually pieces of paper that looked quite familiar.

In the center of it all, was a huffing, puffing Kirisawa Fuuko.

He proceeded to lazily hoist one of his eyebrows up.

"How nice of you to join me, Kirisawa. I _do_ hope you can afford the time to clear up this mess. After all, we have a fight to go to."

He hoped he looked suitably insolent. He had practiced that line in the mirror for a long time. This was the first time he had the opportunity he had gotten to use it.

Fuuko stood there literally radiating steam and anger. She glared at him under her bangs.

"You. Bastard!"

Hm.

She didn't call him Mi-chan. She didn't even call him Mikagami.

"Really now. Where are you manners? Did you lose them when you _broke my door?_" he snarled at her.

She stepped forward and took a deep breath.

"What is this? What is _this?_"

She was shaking something at him. It was a fistful of crushed paper. It was a fistful of the crushed paper that was flying around the room.

He took one from her and smoothed it out.

Aha! No wonder it was familiar. It was a poster he made.

He was proud of it. It was his first time using photoshop and he thought he did a pretty good job with it. Although the monkey's paws were a little hard to cut out because of all the hairs, he thought he did a fine job superimposing it onto the original picture. It looked realistic enough for him.

"…so?"

"SO!?"

"I don't see a problem."

"You," she poked him hard with her fingers.

"Don't."

Poke.

"See."

Poke.

"A."

Poke. She was pushing him further and further back with each stab of her hand.

"Problem?"

Poke.

"You turn me into a monkey,"

Poke.

"And paste fliers of it down the hallway,"

Poke.

"And you say,"

Poke. Poke.

"You DON'T SEE A PROBLEM?"

Poke. Poke. Poke.

His chest was hurting. Her fingers were as strong as steel. Still though, she looked nice close up.

"You are such a—"

Fuuko took another step forward and tripped over the mirror he had used to look at his boots with. She collided with Mikagami and down they tumbled. Mikagami just fell sitting onto the bed; it was right behind him after all. But Fuuko had farther to fall and she ended up leaning into Mikagami.

"Uh."

Mikagami raised his eyebrows. His heart was racing. She was so very close to him.

Mikagami decided it was time to act.

He brought up his hand and pressed his palm flat on her flushed cheek. Whatever Fuuko was about to say was stolen by the wind. She looked at him in shock.

Her skin was soft and he could feel the warmth spread into his hands.

Her eyes fluttered shut and she leaned slightly into his palm.

He brought his fingers close to her lips.

Curling his fingers deftly, he grabbed her cheek with his index finger and thumb and then pulled. Hard.

"This is punishment for breaking my door," he said, slowly leaning down and whispering in her ear. His breath ghosted over the shell of her ear.

And then, he grabbed her by the shoulders, pushed her up and walked out of the room.

"And _that_," he said waving an insolent hand at the mess of papers on the floor, "is punishment for messing with my ensui."

"Happy cleaning," he said with a smirk in his voice.

The door slammed shut, leaving Fuuko with a throbbing cheek, her bruised dignity and a racing heart in the room.

Fin

A/N: Less mushy than usual. This is going to be the usual trend from now on. I'm sorry, I've lost the ability to mush.( Reviews are appreciated.


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